


You Must Remember This (A Kiss... Isn't Always Just A Kiss)

by Nostalgia_101



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nostalgia_101/pseuds/Nostalgia_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times when Oliver & Felicity didn't share a "proper" kiss and one time when they did...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Must Remember This (A Kiss... Isn't Always Just A Kiss)

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to be on a 'five times plus one' kick when it comes to this show for some unknown reason. I hope you guys enjoy the story!

“Take the night off, you deserve it,” Felicity muttered to herself as she pushed her way through the crowded dance floor at Verdant. “Oh wait, just kidding! I need you here after all because I wasn’t listening the last twenty times you explained the computer program to me.” She sidestepped a group of stylish clubbers, wishing she’d changed out of her old yoga pants and well-worn ‘Byte Me’ t-shirt before she’d driven there, but Oliver’s tone had sounded urgent. 

Making sure no one was watching, Felicity slipped out to where the doorway of the lair was hidden and entered in the code. As she made her way through the false front and punched in a second code, she noticed that the basement was suspiciously dark. Frowning, Felicity walked in and slid the metal door shut behind her. “Oliver are you in here?” she called out from the top of the stairs, feeling around for the light switch. “I’m warning you now, if this is some sort of stealth training where you leap out in front of someone and scare the bejeepers out of them, then you may or may not find a set of car keys impaled in your arm. Just saying.” Felicity heard muffled laughter as she located the lights and flicked them on, her mouth agape at the sight before her.

Oliver and Diggle were standing in front of the computers where an oversized, colorful balloon bouquet had been displayed with some gifts placed underneath it. “Happy late birthday!” they called out, watching Felicity as she slowly made her way over in shock.

“No key stabbing or you won’t get any cake,” added Oliver, his lips twitching into a smile.

Felicity glanced between the two men. “How did you… I thought I kept the whole birthday thing under wraps yesterday?”

“I overheard you talking to your mom on the phone last night,” admitted Diggle, handing her a glass of champagne. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” said Oliver.

“It didn’t really come up,” she shrugged as she took a sip of her drink, feeling the bubbles dissolve on her tongue. “And besides, we had Arrow business to do. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of an important weapons raid but do you think everyone could stop and sing Happy Birthday to me? Awesome.’” 

Oliver leant back against the bench. “You could have mentioned it in the morning.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. I was just happy to celebrate with some leftover Chinese food when I got home. Y’know me, always living the high life.” Felicity smiled at her friends. “But this is really sweet of you both, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me too much,” said Diggle, “it was mainly Oliver’s idea.”

Felicity felt a surge of warmth spread through her as Oliver tried to shrug off the praise. “And here you are spending your nights as a superhero when your true calling has been party planning all along,” she teased.

“Maybe you should just open your presents now, party girl,” Oliver replied, smiling as her eyes lit up.

“Here,” said Diggle, offering her a gift bag. “Sorry it’s not much.”

Felicity set down her glass and peered inside the bag, letting out a gasp of delight. “A TARDIS coffee thermos! Digg I love it, thank you.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I thought you could bring it to QC and show Oliver all the coffee he’s missing out on,” said Diggle, causing Felicity to snort and the man in question to scowl. “And that would be my cue to go and grab our dinner. I’ll be back soon.”

Oliver picked up a round gift wrapped in tissue paper as Diggle made his way outside. “This is from me. Hope you like it,” he added hesitantly.

Smiling, Felicity took the present and carefully unstuck the tape to find a plastic coconut inside. “Finally,” she chuckled, “he offers me an elusive coconut.”

“Open it up.”

Following Oliver’s instructions, she twisted the top of the fruit open to find a travel brochure tucked inside. “Tahiti?” she questioned, glancing at the pamphlet.

He nodded. “You’re always talking about how you’d like to travel to different places, so I thought whenever you need a break from the job – both jobs – there’s a ticket with your name on it.” Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that I appreciate all the work you do for me,” he smiled. “You’re still the most remarkable person I know.”

Felicity held the coconut close. “Thank you for still remarking on it,” she said softly. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his cheek, lingering for a few seconds more than what she did with Diggle. They smiled at each other as Felicity pulled away, quickly rubbing her pink lipstick off his skin with her finger.

Clearing his throat, Oliver let his hand drop from her shoulder as he poured them some more champagne. “I like your t-shirt by the way,” he smirked.

She groaned. “You had to call me in on laundry night didn’t you?”

“Do they come in men’s sizes? Maybe I should get one too.”

“Friendly reminder that I have car keys and I’m not afraid to use them.”

* * *

Sifting through the never-ending pile of paperwork on Oliver’s desk, Felicity stifled a yawn. “Are we having fun yet?” she asked, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. “These companies could at least throw in a muffin basket for every sleep-inducing document they decide to send to us. Or a basket of alcohol.”

“I’m sorry we had to stay back so late,” said Oliver, loosening his tie and undoing his top shirt button. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can relax.”

“And by relax you mean that you’ll dress up in green leather and crack the whip on some criminals. The non-literal whip, of course,” she stammered, putting her glasses back on. “Nothing kinky here… Wow, fifty shades of shutting up right now.”

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. “How about I put some music on? It might make the process a bit more bearable for us.” 

“I’m willing to bet that anything would be better than my rambling right now.”

Oliver clicked through a few online radio stations on the computer, flinching at the noise he was met with. “Not to sound like the old guy who yells at kids to get off his lawn, but what the hell happened to music while I was gone?”

“If there’s one thing you should be thankful for, it’s that you weren’t around for Bieber Fever,” Felicity said sagely.

“Is that some sort of malaria virus?”

“Close.”

He flipped past a few more stations until something caught his attention. “That’s more like it,” he said wistfully.

“I’d never have picked you as a KISS fan,” said Felicity. “Although in hindsight you do both have a fondness for face paint.”

Oliver sat back in his swivel chair as ‘Beth’ played through the speakers. “They were one of my father’s favorite bands,” he admitted quietly. 

Felicity winced. “I’m sorry, Oliver, I didn’t mean to joke around.”

“It’s OK,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the glass to the rhythm. “My dad used to play the records when I was little. Then when I got older I made fun of him for his lame taste in music, but he caught me out one night when I was sixteen, playing the Destroyer album in his study.” He smiled to himself, caught in the memory. “We didn’t always get along when I was that age, but I remember he poured us each a whiskey and we just sat there companionably enjoying the songs.”

“That must have been nice,” said Felicity, pleasantly surprised that Oliver hadn’t closed himself off as he usually did. She carefully reached out her hand and placed it on top of his. “See?” she gently prodded. “You _do_ have some happy stories.”

He glanced at her, giving her half a smile. “I guess so.”

“Although this isn’t the happiest of songs now that I’m really listening to it,” she added, absently stroking her thumb across his fingers. 

“Familiar, though,” said Oliver, averting his gaze. “Someone leading two lives, knowing they’re only going to disappoint people whatever they decide to do.”

Felicity’s hand stilled its movement. “Not everyone’s like Beth you know,” she said quietly. “Some people understand both sides to the story. And… they understand that sacrifices have to be made.” She swallowed as Oliver turned his head back towards her, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Anyway,” she said, slipping her hand away to smooth down her skirt, “we should probably get back to the paperwork or I really am going to need a basket of alcohol.”

Regarding her a moment longer, Oliver nodded. “OK.” He shifted around some folders, wanting to lift the heavy weight he felt in the air. “So what’s considered good music in Felicity Smoak’s world?” he asked lightly.

“I don’t mind some of the old bands either.” She lifted her head to smile at him. “I’m actually a fan of Queen.”

His lips curled upward in bemusement. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” She gave him a wink. “Guess it’s just a tradition that’s stuck with me.”

* * *

Oliver ducked and weaved as Diggle threw a punch his way. “Have you heard from Felicity this morning?” he panted, as they circled one another on the training mats.

“I think she said she was coming in at nine,” Diggle replied, searching for a way to trip up his opponent. “You want to be good cop or bad cop?”

“What?”

“Well it’s obvious you want to interrogate her about her date last night, so which role do you want to play?” Diggle smirked as Oliver paused to protest, allowing him leeway to kick his friend’s legs out from underneath him. “That was easier than what I thought.”

Accepting the hand Diggle held out to him, Oliver stood up and wiped some sweat from his forehead. “I do not want to _interrogate_ her,” he objected. “I just want to ask her if she’s got any new leads on Starling City’s latest douchebags. And no,” he interrupted as Digg opened his mouth, “that’s not code for her date either, so you can save your witty response for another time.”

Diggle shrugged as they took on their fighting stance once more. “Just as long as we’re both in agreement that I’m the witty one.”

They kept up their training for another fifteen minutes until Felicity made her presence known coming down the stairs. “Nothing like the smell of a men’s locker room in the morning to really make a girl feel welcome,” she said, breezing past the boys to her desk. “I brought coffee if anyone wants one.”

Oliver let go of the headlock he had Diggle in as they both got their gym towels. “I didn’t think I rated a coffee any more,” he quipped, accepting the Styrofoam cup Felicity held out for him.

“That’s executive assistant Felicity’s deal,” she explained, handing another cup to Diggle. “Arrow Felicity is more lenient. And she needed caffeine to wake her up. Badly.”

“I take it your date went well then?” Diggle asked, ignoring the glare he knew Oliver was sending his way.

Settling into her computer chair, Felicity crossed her legs and took a gulp of her beverage. “We went to Paris.”

“Paris?” Oliver spluttered, nearly spitting out his drink. “That’s a bit much for a first date don’t you think? I mean second date sure; France is a great place to visit. But you hardly know this guy.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow. “We went to Paris, as in the new café on 42nd Street called ‘Paris’,” she clarified. “But it’s nice to know how the billionaires do it.”

“Oh.”

“Was he interesting to talk to?” said Diggle. “Richard wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, Richard Grayson,” she nodded. “He definitely had his quirks. Would you believe he did acrobatics in a circus when he was younger?”

“So you’re dating a carnie then?” said Oliver, feigning nonchalance when Felicity shot him a look. “What?”

“I’m sorry Mr ‘I swing from the rafters and occasionally a grappling hook in my spare time’, who’s that you’re judging?”

Diggle hid a smile behind his coffee cup. “She’s got a point, Oliver.”

Reigning in his exasperation, Oliver turned back to Felicity. “So the acrobat took you to dinner at a café. Then what?”

“Then we just got some ice cream and walked around the city for a while chatting,” said Felicity, setting her cup down on the desk so she could check her emails.

Oliver frowned. “That’s it?”

She whirled her chair back around. “First you’re all up in arms about potential country-hopping and now you’re confused about the minimalism of it all?”

“It’s not that it’s just… I thought he’d pull out all the stops to try and impress you.”

“Who says he didn’t?” She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You, Oliver Queen, need to re-learn the K.I.S.S. principle of dating.”

Oliver threw a helpless glance towards Diggle, who just shook his head. “Don’t look at me, man, it’s news to me too.”

“Seriously guys?” Felicity sighed. “The K.I.S.S. principle, otherwise known as ‘keep it simple stupid’. Not all women are concerned with bells and whistles; some just want good company and fun conversation. The location doesn’t matter.”

“Right,” Oliver said disbelievingly, walking over to her. “So if I were to take you on a date one day in, say, a dingy alleyway, you’d be completely cool with that?”

“Sounds like a regular Friday night for us to me,” she retorted, as Oliver tried not to ruin his lofty façade with a smile.

Restraining the urge to knock their heads together, Diggle took a long drink of his coffee. “So you gonna see this Grayson guy again, Felicity?”

She scuffed her shoe along the ground. “I’m not sure. I mean he was entertaining and all, and I had a good time, but I don’t know if there were any sparks. Plus I think he just got out of a heavy long-term relationship so I don’t....” Felicity paused, noticing the awkward looks on the boys’ faces. “And I’m going to stop right there before everyone’s eyes glaze over and this turns into a rom-com monologue. I _really_ need some female friends down here,” she muttered, turning back to the main computer.

Standing behind her chair, Oliver moved his hand down to give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so judgemental.” He paused. “I’m… glad you had a nice night.”

Felicity tilted her head back to look at him. “Thanks. But enough about me,” she said, re-focusing on the screen. “Let’s see what the news is on Starling’s latest parade of scumbags.”

“Oliver might have a few ideas on that topic,” Diggle offered with a smirk, narrowly evading Oliver’s screwed up towel that sailed past his head like a missile.

* * *

“I look like the long-lost child of Katy Perry and Lady Gaga,” Felicity protested, blowing a strand of pink wig hair away from her face as Oliver guided them towards a club in the seedier part of The Glades.

“You don’t have to do this, Felicity,” Oliver reminded her. “I can always just go in and set up the surveillance gear myself.”

She fixed him with a withering gaze, which was proving difficult with her false sparkly eyelashes. “And remind me again how you miraculously developed my hacking skills overnight?”

“I’m not completely useless,” he objected.

“Tell that to my last piece of demo tech you destroyed, which by the way, hurt a tiny piece of my soul. I’m a part of this mission whether you or I like it or not.” She drew her long coat closer to her body. “And of _course_ the underground drug lord had to own a rave club. How cliché.”

“We’ll be in and out in twenty minutes max,” he promised her. “It wouldn’t be good for Oliver Queen’s reputation to be caught in an establishment like this.”

“Still doing the third person thing, huh?” Diggle’s voice rang through their earpieces.

“He _does_ do that a lot, doesn’t he,” Felicity agreed, curbing her smile at Oliver’s exasperation. “Red alert: Oliver Queen is not amused,” she murmured warningly to Digg.

Placing his hand on the small of Felicity’s back, Oliver led her to the club entrance where a bored security guard stood. Slipping him a hundred dollar bill, Oliver stepped aside so they could be let in. They walked down a long corridor towards an elevator, which took them four stops below the basement level, the thumping music getting louder with every descent.

“If Thea ever manages to convince me to play any of this music at our club, you have permission to shoot me with my bow,” said Oliver, his sentence trailing away when he turned to glance at Felicity who was shrugging her coat off her shoulders.

“What?” she said in alarm at the look on his face. “Too much?” She scrutinized her fluoro pink crop top and gold short-shorts, trying in vain to tug them down over her fishnet stockings. “Or too little in this case. I knew I should have gone with the plastic dress.”

“No it’s… you’re fine,” Oliver stuttered. “Very rave-like attire.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Where’s your horrible outfit?” she accused, letting her mouth gape slightly when Oliver simply yanked off his shirt leaving him in jeans and a tight gray tank top. “How is that _remotely_ as bad as what I’m wearing?”

“I’m not a fan of gray,” he quipped as the elevator doors opened. They were immediately assaulted with a barrage of bright lights, smoke and deafening music. Felicity shoved her coat and Oliver’s shirt into her oversized fluffy bag while he scoped the place out, searching for their target’s office.

“Any luck?” asked Digg, his voice sounding muffled underneath all the music.

“It’s behind the bar,” said Oliver, moving closer. “No one appears to be guarding it at the moment, so we should be able to stay on schedule. We… Felicity what are you doing?” he shouted over the din.

Felicity caught up with him, adjusting the bright orange halo she’d just placed around her head. “That guy in the rainbow tutu gave me some glowy things.” She grinned as she slipped a few green rings around Oliver’s neck. “We’re trying to fit in aren’t we?” 

“I look like a reject lava lamp,” he said blankly. “Let’s just stay on course so we can get out of here.” Ensuring no one was watching, Oliver took Felicity’s hand and led her towards the office. She pretended to speak drunkenly on her cell as a cover while Oliver swiftly picked the lock. Timing their next move with the release of the smoke machine, they dove inside while a dense fog shrouded the room.

They took in the space, noting where the security cameras were that Diggle had already scrambled. “According to our source the boss should be in his meeting until one am,” said Oliver, checking his watch. “That gives us about five minutes.”

Felicity took a seat at the computer, setting her bag down on the table. “More than enough time to weave my magic,” she exclaimed, quickly getting to work.

“Uh, guys,” Diggle interrupted. “We may have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” said Oliver.

“By the looks of my security screen our target has finished his meeting early and is making his way downstairs. I’d say you only have two minutes tops to finish the job.”

Gulping, Felicity’s fingers flew even faster across the keyboard. “OK, not-so-much time to weave my magic to its usual Hermione standards, but I can still do it.”

“I’ll hide the mini surveillance camera on the shelf,” said Oliver, grabbing Felicity’s bag. “Where did you put it?”

“It’s OK, I can get it in a sec,” she replied, her face turning a slight shade of pink. “Just let me finish this first.”

“Felicity we don’t have time to wait, just tell me where it is and I’ll do it. I promise I won’t break it,” he added. “Your soul will remain intact.”

She spared a sheepish glance his way. “It’s not that it’s just… I sewed it into the hemline of my shorts.” Felicity noticed his eyes skim over her fishnet-clad legs. “I thought it would be safer to keep it on me in case they did a bag search.”

Oliver took another anxious look at his watch. “I don’t think you’re going to have time to do both,” he said almost apologetically. “Would it be OK if I… retrieved it?”

“… Sure.” Felicity licked her lips. “Um, it’s on the right side.” She tensed slightly as Oliver quickly knelt down and lightly ran his hand over her leg, feeling around for the piece. Her knee abruptly hit the underside of the desk with a jolt. “Sorry,” she squeaked. “Ticklish spot.”

He glanced up at her, his fingers hovering over the sensitive part of her thigh. “Just try hold still,” Oliver replied, his voice sounding oddly strained. He traced the outline of the material once more before finding the camera, which was no bigger than a contact lens. Felicity kept typing as he ripped open the stitching to retrieve it before carefully placing it in his hand. “Sorry about the damage.”

“I think I’ll live without them.”

“Hurry up,” Diggle said forebodingly. “He’s only a minute away.”

Oliver quickly went over to the shelf and placed the camera in an inconspicuous location while Felicity performed the last of her procedures. She pumped her fist in the air when she was done, making Oliver smile. “Go on, mock if you will,” she said, switching off the computer and gathering her bag. “But you should really try it sometime.” They made their way to the door. “Maybe even a Snoopy Dance every now and then.”

“I’ll put it on the to-do list,” he replied, turning the handle and checking they were clear before they stepped back into the club. They walked side-by-side to the bar just as their target, flanked by security, weaved his way through the crowd straight past them. “Coast is...” Oliver began, but grunted as Felicity abruptly pulled him by the glow rings around his neck so that he was pressed up against her next to a wall. She tugged his head down so that their lips were only inches apart.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered self-consciously, “just lay low and pretend to make-out for a sec.”

“What’s going on?” he said, trying to turn his head, but Felicity just held it in place.

“Paparazzi right behind you,” she explained, feeling a blush creep up her neck at their close proximity. “I recognized them from the millions of times they’ve staked out Queen Consolidated. And like you said before, it wouldn’t be good publicity for Oliver Queen to be seen here.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he agreed, gazing at her with a mixture of pride and something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Thanks for having my back,” he said quietly, his breath hot against her mouth.

She unthinkingly ran her hands down his shoulders. “It’s a good back to have,” she murmured, before her eyes widened. “You know what I mean,” she added quickly. Felicity could feel the erratic rise and fall of his chest against hers as they stood there in silence before the smoke machine enveloped the club in a smoky cloud once more and they made their escape.

* * *

The air whipped underneath Oliver’s hood as he sprinted in sheer panic towards the hotel swimming pool. Only moments ago it had been an ordinary mission; Team Arrow on the case to catch the bad guy and save the day. But their target had other ideas and instead of following Oliver’s bait they’d made a play for Felicity instead, who had been dressed up as one of the hotel staff. All Oliver and Diggle had heard over their earpieces was Felicity struggling, a thump and then a loud splash.

Oliver’s feet pounded against the tiles in the empty gym as he neared the pool, his gut clenching at the sight he’d been fearing the most: Felicity floating face down in the water, her blond hair stained with swirls of red. “Diggle call an ambulance,” he shouted, knowing the man would hear him through the comms.

“Already on it,” Diggle instantly replied. “I tried to chase the son of a bitch but he got away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Leaping into the water, Oliver pushed his way over to his fallen friend, gently turning her over to hold in his arms. Fear pulsed through him at the sight of the bloody abrasion on her forehead and the unmistakeable stillness of her body. Oliver swam over to the side of the pool, lifting Felicity up to rest on the cold ground while he hauled himself up. He quickly stripped off his jacket to place under her head and started to perform CPR, willing himself to stay calm even though he was on the verge of terror. “Come on, Felicity,” he urged, pumping his hands down on her chest. “Come _on_.” Oliver tilted her head back before covering her mouth with his own and blowing two short breaths. He glanced at her pale body, despairing when there was no change. 

He started another round of compressions, feeling his throat begin to constrict. “Please, Felicity,” he pleaded, his eyes stinging from a fusion of the tears threatening to pour out and the grease paint running down his face, slowly unmasking him. “I need you to stay with me. _Please_.” Oliver bent down again to press his mouth to hers, giving her the air she desperately needed. It was on the second attempt when he felt the smallest of movements against his lips before Felicity took in a shuddering gasp and started to cough up some water. With a sigh of pure relief, Oliver carefully smoothed her hair away from her face, avoiding the gash near her temple. “It’s OK, Felicity,” he soothed. “You’re going to be OK. I’ve got you.”

Felicity grabbed onto his arms in fright as though she were still in the midst of fighting her assailant, taking a few seconds to register what was happening. Her body relaxed when she saw Oliver’s concerned face hovering above her. She slowly blinked at him. “I’m going to be pissed if he crushed my favorite glasses,” she managed to croak out.

Oliver’s face broke into the tiniest of smiles. “I’ll buy you a new favorite pair,” he said softly, finding her hand to hold in his.

Footsteps echoed behind them. “Is she OK?” asked Diggle, running over to crouch down next to them. “Are you hurt?” He gently cupped Felicity’s face.

“Just my pride,” she weakly replied. “And maybe my head.”

“The ambulance will be here any minute.” Diggle glanced at his colleague. “Oliver, I know you don’t want to hear this but you better leave before someone sees you in your get-up.”

Knowing he was about to protest, Felicity grasped his hand. “I’ll be OK,” she promised him. “You can meet us at the hospital.”

Oliver hesitated but with another imploring look from the blonde he relented. He gave her hand one last squeeze before standing up, waiting for Diggle to transfer his own jacket under Felicity’s head and return Oliver’s hood. “I’ll be back with you before you know it,” he assured her. As he turned to leave he heard her voice call out to him.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah?”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks for having my back.”

* * *

Hearing a knock at her apartment door, Felicity slid the latch across before opening it up to find Oliver standing on the other side. “What are you doing here?” she said, checking her watch. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“It’s fine, I’ve got the boss on my good side,” Oliver replied, waiting for her to gesture him inside. “But if we’re going to play that game then shouldn’t you be resting?”

Felicity pointed to the gauze on her forehead. “It’s a slight head wound not a torn-off limb. The doctors said I’d be OK, remember?”

“Yes, after you got some _rest_ ,” he implored. “Giving yourself one day to recover isn’t going to make things any better.”

She pursed her lips as she sat back down on the sofa, holding a blue cushion over her lap. “I’ll be sure to remind you of that next time you get injured and want to resume arrowing ten minutes later. Take a seat,” she said, nodding to the space beside her. “Sorry about the mess.”

Oliver moved some computer magazines onto the coffee table before sitting down. He fished around in his suit pocket before taking out a small parcel. “Here, I got you something.”

Smiling at him, she took the purple box from his hands and opened it, her grin widening when she saw a new pair of glasses inside. “Almost identical to my old ones,” she said happily. “Thank you, Oliver.”

He smiled back at her. “I’m a man of my word.”

Turning the box over in her hands, Felicity glanced up at him. “Not that I don’t appreciate the gift, because I do, but is that really all you came to see me about?” she said hesitantly.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

She bit her lip. “I’m just hoping I’m not about to get the, ‘Felicity I don’t want you out on the field anymore after what happened’ speech. Because I want to let you know in advance that while you’re usually pretty commanding and, y’know, grr,” she added, making her hands into claw shapes, “there’s no way in hell you’re going to convince me to stay away.”

Oliver regarded her for a long moment before dipping his head. “I know.”

“Wait, what?” she replied, surprise schooling her features.

“I know I won’t be able to, so I’m not going to try,” he shrugged.

Felicity folded her arms across the pillow. “That was a lot easier than what I thought it would be. I was ready to plead my case. Draw pie charts if I needed to.”

“No charts necessary.” He gave her a pained smile. “If you want to know the honest truth… It’s for selfish reasons too. As much as this is dangerous, and as much as I want to protect you from all the horrible stuff in this city,” he drew in a deep breath. “I’d be pretty lost if I didn’t have you around.” 

Felicity’s face softened as she nodded. “Me too,” she said.

Oliver gingerly reached out to trace his fingers across the bandage on her forehead, watching as Felicity gazed into his eyes. “When I found you lying in the pool I just…”

“I know,” she said quietly, lifting up her hand to hold onto his.

Without pause, Oliver dipped his head towards hers and kissed her lips, feeling her mouth immediately move against his. He moved closer, wrapping his free hand around her waist as Felicity’s other hand cupped his jaw. Their movement was slow and languid, both reluctant to draw apart when they needed air. Oliver pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth and her cheek before sitting back to look at her.

“Do you think the boss would mind if you stayed a bit longer?” she said, stroking his face.

Oliver smiled. “You know what, I think he might actually encourage it.”


End file.
